


Happily Ever After

by thatwriterlady



Series: 30 Day Writing Challenge 2016 [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Days of Writing Challenge 2016, Action, Cursed Castiel, Dean to the Rescue, Falling In Love, Farmer Dean, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Little bit of smut, M/M, Prince Castiel, Romance, True Love, fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady
Summary: The Winchester farm backs up to a vast forest, the only thing dividing King Charles' kingdom from King Richard's.  Dean lives in the kingdom of Angelus.  His life revolves around working in the fields and caring for his family which consists of his father John and younger brother Sam.  He's not rich by any means, but they're comfortable.  The royal woods are off limits to anyone but the royal guard but that doesn't stop Dean from a bit of hunting and gathering of fruits, herbs, and mushrooms.  What started out as just another late summer afternoon of berry picking turned into something much more when a horrible wailing erupts from the forest.  Dean sees an opportunity for possible food, if that's an injured animal.  He gets a lot more than he ever expected...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so give me a bit of slack with this one. It's only the 2nd fairy tale I've ever written, the first one being some years ago for my younger daughter when she was really little. So I was a bit out of practice. Not only that, I didn't want to go with any of the traditionally known fairy tales. I wanted something just a little different. So I borrowed a tiny bit from some other tales, like East of the Sun, West of the Moon, but put my own twist on it. Suspend your beliefs here people, it's a FAIRY TALE. Nothing makes real sense in a fairy tale! I do hope you all like it though. 
> 
> I would have put this out a lot sooner except trying to find the time to write this week has been next to impossible. I kept things under wraps until we knew the results, but 2 weeks ago my younger daughter went in to get a couple of moles examined. They ended up being removed and they made us wait until yesterday for the biopsy results. They were negative. My daughter was a wreck waiting to hear, and I wasn't much better. On top of that, we had unexpected and unwelcome guests visit that made things harder on my family (extended family that pretend they care, but only make things harder when they leave), and we're dealing now with the early stages of dementia for my mother. On top of my growing chronic pain. So yeah, things haven't been easy. But I got this one done, FINALLY. I hope you all like it!

Day 13: In a Fairytale [](http://www.pizap.com/image/707476471pizapw1479414574.jpg)  


 

**_Day 13: In a Fairytale_ **

****

Once upon a time…

 

There was a young man, strong and brave, by the name of Dean.  He was nothing special, as far as the townspeople were concerned, but to his little brother, Sam, he hung the moon and stars.  For Dean, Sam’s well-being was his main concern and his reason for existing.

 

Their mother had passed away from fever when Sam was very little, so the bulk of caring for the young boy fell to Dean.  Their father had fallen into despair after the death of his wife, but the farm needed to be maintained and their father wasn’t doing nearly enough to help, so Dean did what he had to in order to keep it running and keep their little family fed.  Most days his father sat around getting drunk, leaving the fields to be worked by Dean and the few workers they were able to employ.  It forced Dean to grow up very quickly as he had to work hard every day in the fields to keep clothes on their backs and food in their bellies.  Times were hard under King Charles’ reign, and it wasn’t because he was a bad king, because he wasn’t really, he was just very passive, almost to a fault.  Other kingdoms saw this as a weakness and were constantly attacking, trying to overthrow the king.  The army King Charles employed was one of the best in the known world, nearly impossible to defeat, but that didn’t stop foolish people from trying.

 

Dean worried because their farm was near the edge of the kingdom, right on the edge of a vast forest that separated the lands of Angelus from the lands of Levanthia.  More than once his farm had been ransacked, most of their meager livestock and food stores being stolen.  At least John helped during those times and between them and their farmhands, they managed to get their 2 dairy cows, 5 goats, and chickens back.  Food stores were gone in the wind though.

 

There was wildlife to be concerned with too.  He’d built a brand new chicken coop to house their flock, one that kept out both human and animal predators alike.  Dean knew what lurked in the forests beyond their farm, and outside of a rare spot of hunting a few times each year, he respected the creatures that lived there, and they, for the most part, stayed off his farm.

 

One afternoon, as Dean and his brother, Sam were picking blueberries for a pie from the bushes along the edge of the forest, he heard a most unworldly wail coming from somewhere beyond the tree line.  Sam’s basket slipped from his hands as he jumped back suddenly.

 

“Dean, what is that?  I’ve never heard anything like it!”

 

Dean frowned and moved over to his brother.  He shoved his basket into the young man’s hands.

 

“Go home and fetch my bow and arrow.  Something has injured itself, I will put it out of its misery.  Perhaps we’ll have a new fur and more food for winter.”

 

Sam had grown over the last few years, finally passing Dean up just this year, but even at 20 he suddenly looked so much younger, and so very frightened.

 

“Go, now!  Fetch it!”  Dean repeated, putting a bit more force into his words.  That spurred his brother into action, and Sam took off running for the house.  Dean picked up his brother’s basket and as many of the spilled berries as he could.  He wanted that pie later, and food was not something he cared to waste.

 

Sam’s long legs carried him quickly up to the house and back again.  He handed over Dean’s bow and the quiver full of brand new arrows that Dean had spent the previous week fashioning in preparation for the coming winter.  Dean traded him the bowl of fruit for the weapon.

 

“Take those up to the house and wash them good and well.  When I return we will make pie to go with the roast duck.  Go on.”  Dean slung the quiver over one shoulder and with one arrow and the bow in hand, he stepped into the woods.  The wailing gave him goosebumps.  Never had he heard anything like that in his life.  He hoped it wasn’t one of the monsters rumored to roam the forests.  One glance back told him Sam was already on his way back up to the house.  Good.  That put him out of danger.  Now all he had to do was follow the terrifying sound and figure out what had gone and hurt itself, and hope he didn’t get hurt in turn.

 

The woods were thick and the light was dimmer here, but Dean knew his way.  He gathered berries, herbs, edible roots and mushrooms here, and that was when he wasn’t hunting, so he knew his way around.  These were the royal woods and technically he should not be in them, but it was rare that the army came this way, unless there was trouble with a neighboring kingdom.  He knew the king’s hunting season and avoided the woods completely during those times.  It was nearly that time now, only a few more weeks and the royal guard would be all over these woods.  To catch a deer, or better, a bear would mean to feed his family for most of the coming winter.  The sun was beginning to set earlier and night would soon be upon him.  He didn’t want to be in these woods after dark.  The Dire wolves that roamed here were huge and numbered more than the arrows currently in his quiver.  He wasn’t foolish enough to go up against them on his own.

 

The wailing had begun to sound more like crying, and that in and of itself was strange.  It almost sounded humanlike, and after 20 minutes of searching, Dean came upon his quarry.  His eyes widened as they fell upon the bear currently caught in a rabbit snare.  The creature had pulled so hard in its attempt to escape that it had pulled it tighter, and now it was trapped.  There was blood in the animal’s fur and on the ground beneath its leg.  And Dean was certain now that the creature, an enormous brown bear, was crying.

 

“I knew not that bears could shed tears,” he said more to himself than to the bear, because who spoke to bears?  Only the insane, that’s who.  Large paws tipped in razor sharp claws covered the creature’s face, and at the sound of his voice they fell away.  Dean gasped at the sharp blue eyes looking back at him.

 

Human eyes, of that he was certain.

 

“What are you?” he whispered.  The creature made a sound similar to a whine and pawed at its ankle.

 

“Caught yourself, did you?”

 

The bear nodded.  Dean inhaled sharply.  It could understand him!

 

“You…” he dared a step closer,  “know what I am saying?”

 

The bear made a sound that Dean could swear was an attempt to speak words and nodded.

 

“Are you a bear?”

 

It shook its head.  Ah, so not a bear at all.  Damn, that meant no food.

 

“Are you going to eat me if I set you free?”

 

The animal actually rolled its eyes and snorted.  So it knew sarcasm.  Lovely.

 

“No need to get smart.  Hunters will be in these parts soon, and they’ll not show kindness, not to a bear, that much is certain.  Will you let me help you?”  Dean edged a little closer but not into swiping range.  The bear inclined its head and closed its eyes.  The man stepped closer, carefully laying a hand upon the not-bear’s head.  The fur was thick and coarse as he ran his fingers through it.

 

“You one of those monsters they speak of down at the tavern?”  Dean asked as he crouched beside the creature.  Blue eyes opened and studied him a moment before shaking its head.

 

“Gone and got yourself a curse then, did you?”  Dean mused.  The not-bear’s shoulders slumped and tears actually began to spill again.

 

“Curses, they’re not perfect.  They can be broken.  Do you know how to break this one?” he asked.  The not bear gave a little half shrug.

 

“Aye, and of course you can’t tell  _me_  how to break it.”  Dean scrubbed a hand down his face.  It wasn’t right to leave this man cursed.  His mother had been a powerful witch.  She’d placed enough curses and lifted just as many in her time.  During his 12 years with her, Dean had learned a lot.  He’d only encountered a meager number of curses in his lifetime, and only been able to help lift one, when a neighbor had angered the Fae by not making a proper offering, yet expecting them to bless his gardens anyway.  His punishment had been a craving for the beetles that were numerous in his gardens.  It had been difficult to lift but Dean had managed, and then he’d made the man immediately apologize and make a generous offering to the Fae.  To his knowledge his neighbor had not angered the Fae since.  Now here he was, faced with a much more complicated spell, and no idea who had placed it, or how to remove it.  Still wondering how he should handle this issue, he laid his bow and quiver down on the ground.  The not-bear watched him closely.

 

“My name’s Dean, not that it matters.  You’re lucky I heard your wailing.  Had another farmer heard you, it’s doubtful they’d have been so kind.  Now sit still.  You’ve gone and gotten the wire embedded and it’s going to hurt, but we’ll get you patched up, ok?”

 

The not-bear nodded and watched as Dean moved down to examine the snared leg and the wire holding it.  He traced the wire to a nearby tree.  Were it made from vine or leather he might be able to cut through it, but wire required a sword to break, and his was back at the farm.  To release the tension and get the creature free would mean getting it to move back towards the tree.  The ankle looked pretty bad but on the plus side, this was a cursed human, therefore if he asked it to move closer, it would probably do it.  Depending on just how much it understood in this form.  He moved back again until he was in front of the not-bear.

 

“You understand me well, right?”

 

The creature blinked slowly and nodded.

 

“Alright then.  Here’s the deal.  This trap?  I can’t cut through it with a knife because it’s made from wire.  My sword is back up at my house, so the only way to free you is for you to move back towards that tree there.  I need the wire to go slack so that I can remove it.  Can you do that for me?”

 

The not bear looked at the tree in question before turning its bright blue eyes back on Dean.  It nodded.  

 

“Good.  Go on then.”  Dean grabbed his bow and quiver before getting to his feet and stepping out of the not bear’s way.  Slowly, and with obvious pain, it dragged itself across the leaf littered ground.

 

“That’s good, stop there.”

 

The creature stopped moving, collapsing back to the ground and erupting into tears once more.  Dean felt terrible for the suffering this creature was experiencing.  As he knelt down to carefully work the wire out of the flesh and remove it, he wondered what this person had even done to get cursed.  It wailed as Dean pulled the wire from its flesh.

 

“Hush now, or you’ll have hunters coming!”  Dean warned.  The creature immediately quieted, though it was still whimpering.  Dean returned to the task at hand, and a moment later he had the leg free from its binding.

 

“We need to get this bleeding to stop.”  Dean pulled a handkerchief, one that his mother had made herself, but it was too small for the not bear’s leg.  What was he going to do?  It was bleeding freely now.  Suddenly a sound rumbled up from the not bear’s chest, startling Dean.  It wasn’t exactly a growl but it was definitely nothing he had ever heard before.  He looked up sharply, gasping as his eyes struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.  The fur was rippling as the creature collapsed back onto the ground.  Dean jumped back as it seemed to split open and fall away to reveal a man inside.  

 

“Oh…” the man groaned.  Dean stepped closer.

 

“You’re human again!”

 

The same blue eyes he’d stared into in bear form now blinked and looked up at him.  Dean actually forgot to breathe for a moment.

 

“Dean.”  The man’s voice was deep, gravelly, as though it had not been used in a long time.

 

“So you did understand me.”  Dean stepped closer again, realizing as the man pushed the fur away that he wore nothing.  He was as naked as the day he was born.  And the ankle was bleeding still.  Ignoring the rest of the naked body in front of him, Dean bent down to try and get the bleeding to stop.   _Now_  the handkerchief fit all the way around the man’s ankle.

 

“Yes, I…understood you.  Mostly.  Thank you, Dean.  No one has ever helped me before.”  The man sat up, hissing in pain as Dean applied pressure to his injured ankle.  “I didn’t see the snare, but I suppose it’s good that I stepped in it.  This curse…it’s not broken.  Yet.”

 

“Well, then it’s lucky it was me that found you and not some hunter.  These woods are full of illegal ones.  I was picking berries at the edge of my land when I heard you wailing,”  Dean said.  The man’s expression turned grumpy.

 

“I wasn’t wailing.”

 

Dean looked up, smirking.  “You were wailing.  I grabbed my bow and arrow as only a fool would came in here alone.  I knew you weren’t truly a bear though.”

 

The man’s head tilted as he studied Dean.  “And you knew this how?”

 

Dean met the man’s gaze once he had tied the handkerchief in place.  He’d need to take the man back to his house and get him some clothes, and to take better care of the ankle.

 

“Your eyes.  They were human.  I saw the intelligence in them.”

 

The man smiled softly.  “I thank you again, Dean.”

 

“You need not thank me further.  Can you stand?  It’s not safe to remain in these woods, especially not when you’re bleeding.  It will draw all manner of creatures, and I have not enough arrows to deal.”  

 

It was awkward helping a naked man to his feet, and even more so when he couldn’t bear weight on his injured ankle.  Dean ended up wrapping an arm around him to hold him up.  The man reached down to pick up the bear skin.  It was heavy and awkward, but Dean knew it was important.  The walk back was going to be long and more dangerous than Dean had wanted.  All he could do was stay on high alert.

 

“How far?”  The man grunted after almost a half hour of walking.  They could hear creatures nearby, no doubt stalking them.  

 

“We’re almost to my land now.”  Dean yanked the man up higher and started moving faster.  They needed to get back to the house.   _Now_.

 

They broke out of the tree line a few minutes later, and Dean wanted to sob with relief.  He knew better than to slow down though.  Wolves, bears and other creatures were not limited to the forests; they just preferred the safety of them.  To his credit, the man didn’t complain about the pace, he remained quiet, save for a few grunts of pain.

 

“We have to hurry, this won’t last,”  the man said through gritted teeth.  Dean didn’t want to try and figure out what exactly it was he meant, not when the sound of a Dire wolf’s howl suddenly rang across the fields.  It was quickly answered by one that sounded even closer.  They just had to get up to the house.

 

“Dean!”

 

He looked up to see Sam running to meet them.

 

“Help me get him inside!  The wolves have his scent!”  Dean yelled.  Sam raced across the field and without waiting for his brother to stop, he pulled the fur from the naked stranger’s arms and slung it over his shoulder before slipping his own arm around the man’s waist.  They moved faster that way, racing back up to the house.  Dean let his brother take the brunt of the man’s weight as he slammed the door shut and bolted it.  Just before he’d done so, he’d seen the first of the wolf pack as they came out of the woods.  This wasn’t good.

 

“What’s going on?”  John Winchester came into the room, arching one eyebrow at the naked man leaning against his younger son and the way Dean was slinging his quiver up onto his shoulder again as he reached for his bow.  Dean was just glad his father was sober at the moment.  He’d need his father’s excellent hunter’s eye shortly.

 

“Dire wolves.  Tracking the blood,”  Dean replied as he moved to the window to peer out.

 

“Blood?”  John echoed.  “Who is this man?”

 

“I’ll explain after I get the wolves gone.  Sam!  Go out back and put up the birds and goats!  Be quick!”  Dean ordered.  Sam helped the naked man over to a chair by the fireplace and practically dropped him onto it before bolting out of the room.  John was even going into action, leaving the room and returning a moment later with another bow and quiver.  

 

“Take out the Alpha, Dean.  The rest of the pack will scatter.”  John opened the front door cautiously while Dean opened the window and took aim.  It didn’t take but a few seconds to spot the Alpha, a big, gray wolf nipping at the flank of another, smaller wolf, sending it aound the side of the house.  They were still too far away to hit.

 

“Dad, I can’t strike it from here.”  

 

John had taken aim too, but he knew Dean was right.  He lowered his bow for a moment before spotting another wolf much closer.  Swinging around, he took aim and let his arrow fly.  Killing it wasn’t the point.  A single arrow was unlikely to penetrate enough, especially at this distance, but it was a deterrent that would hopefully make the animal return to the forest where it belonged.  The arrow hit the wolf’s flank, making it howl and tear off back across the field towards the rest of the pack.  Dean aimed at another one of the wolves that was getting too close, the arrow lodging in the beast’s head.  It collapsed silently.  There was no time to gloat over the kill, the other wolves were still advancing.  The Alpha was smart and fast, but not as fast as Dean.  He leveraged himself up and out of the window, taking aim as John came to his side.  Their arrows flew one after the other, striking the enormous wolf before it could dodge them.  It fell quickly, the snarl dying on its lips before it hit the ground.  The other wolves froze, the next in line smart enough to call the others back, and they darted back into the woods.  Finally, Dean lowered his bow.  John did the same.

 

“We can sell the pelts in town.  I can get Garth and Victor to process, to get the meat cured.  We should have enough to last us through most of the winter,”  John said.  Dean nodded in agreement.  His father turned to look at him.  “Care to explain why you carried a naked man out of the woods?”  Dean sighed.

 

“It’s a long story, and I don’t even know all of it myself.”

 

John nodded towards the house.

 

“Then what say we go back inside and find out?”

 

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

 

Sam was already back in the house by the time they walked back in, and he’d fetched a nightshirt and a blanket for the stranger.  Dean was glad, that was 2 fewer things he would have to do himself.  He marched over to the man in the chair and crouched down in front of him.  Blue eyes were watching him closely as he lifted up the ankle and removed the handkerchief.  The cut from the wire was angry and red.  Most likely it would leave a scar, but Dean was confident he could heal it without risk of infection.

 

“Sam, fetch me my healing poultice, and boil some water.”

 

Sam hurried to do as he’d been instructed.  Dean lowered the man’s foot back to the floor gently and looked up to meet the eyes watching him.  He was fairly certain he’d never seen that shade of blue before.  It looked like it had been years since the man had last shaved and Dean couldn’t really discern his age.

 

“Can I get your name?  You know, since I saved your life and all.”

 

The corners of the man’s lips turned up in an amused smile.

 

“Of course.  My name is Castiel.  And I thank you for your kindness.  I quite possibly would have perished had you not found me.  I heard something, wolves most likely, and I tried to run.  I ran right into the snare and it pulled tight before I realized what was happening and…down I went.  I’m just glad I didn’t break my leg.”

 

“Son, I have to ask, why were you out in the woods naked?”  John went to stoke the fire and get it going big again.

 

“He wasn’t, Dad.  He has a curse upon him.  I thought perhaps it had broken when the bear skin fell away, but he said it’s not,”  Dean interjected.  Something was needling at him.  It wasn’t until Sam had returned with the items he’d requested and a clean rag that it dawned on him.  He’d heard the name Castiel before, but not in a very long time.  Not since his mother was still alive.

 

“Your name.  You’re not…the king’s  _son_ , Castiel, are you?”

 

Sam and John both turned to look at Castiel too, everyone awaiting answer.  The man sighed deeply.

 

“Aye, that would be me.  The disgrace of the royal family,”

 

Dean hesitated a moment before bowing his head.  He was still on his knees, so at least he didn’t have to get down on the floor.  Sam and Dean immediately did the same.

 

“Please, there’s no need for that.  Get up.”  Castiel sounded irritated, and Dean found himself looking up in confusion.

 

“We all thought you were dead.  The king said you were stolen away, taken from the royal garden midday.  A ransom was put on the head of your kidnapper.  That was…over a decade ago, if I remember correctly.”  

 

“I’ll get a pot of tea on.”  John got to his feet and motioned for Sam to follow him.  Castiel turned his attention to Dean once they were alone.

 

“That is untrue.  My father is more than aware of the curse.  He was doing what he felt was best for the kingdom.  It was better for the people to believe the heir to the throne was stolen away than it was for them to know that their king had arranged for their son to marry a witch, and the son had refused to follow through with it, so she cursed him.”

 

“But you’re human again.  Surely the curse is broken.”  Dean insisted.

 

“No, the curse was to punish me.  Lady Margaret told me that the only kindness I would ever find was with her or with the hunter that would one day kill me and put me out of my misery.  She turned me into a bear, destined to roam the earth until I found my true love, the person that is supposed to love me, in spite of the beast I have become.  Alas, I am only in human form from sunset to sunrise.  And I’m not supposed to be able to leave the forest.  This…it’s the first that I’ve been human outside of that time.  But I can still feel it.  It is not broken.”  Castiel sighed and scratched at his chin.  “I need a shave,” he mumbled.

 

“So, until morning you will be human?”  Dean asked.

 

Castiel could only shrug.  “I don’t know anything more about this curse.  I was cast out of the castle in my bear form, and I’ve never returned.  My home is a cave deep in the woods.  I was hunting for something to eat.  I wasn’t able to eat last night, there were hunters in the area.  Normally, to avoid crossing them, I seek out food at night, in this form, and I stay in my cave during the day, but as of late, there have been more, day and night, and they are very unpleasant.  It would seem that I have outsmarted Lady Margaret, but in the end I believe she has bested me.  My existence is miserable.  How am I expected to find my true love?”

 

He sounded so heartbroken that it pulled at Dean’s heart.

 

“Well, how about I get your leg fixed up and then fix you a bath?  I’m sure a proper bath will feel incredible.”

 

Castiel perked up a little.  “Would it be possible for me to shave?  I’ve never done so properly.  I hate this beard.  The most I’ve been able to do is cut it shorter with knives I find around the woods.”

 

Dean looked at the man’s hair, cut all uneven, probably also styled with a dull knife.

 

“We’ll get you a shave and a haircut too, how does that sound?”

 

Castiel smiled wider.  “I would like that very much.”

 

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

 

Dean cleaned and disinfected the cut on the prince’s ankle (and wasn’t that the funny part, Castiel was the alleged only son of King Charles, and heir to the throne) before filling the tub with hot water and helping Castiel into it.  It wasn’t like he hadn’t already seen the man naked, but now he was seeing how truly filthy he was.  Taking a seat beside the tub, Dean grabbed a washrag and a bar of homemade soap and started washing the prince’s back.

 

“W-what are you doing?”  Castiel craned his head around to look at him, his brow furrowed in surprise.

 

“I can’t imagine when the last time was that you had a proper bath.  You’re filthy and you smell, mostly like an animal.  You deserve a bit of pampering.  I don’t mind.  When my dad drinks too much and soils himself, I need to do this for him too.  And I bathed Sam when he was little too.”  Dean scrubbed, watching the dead skin and dirt slough away to reveal the smooth, pink skin beneath.  He moved up to Castiel’s shoulders.  “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“You can ask me anything, Dean,”  Castiel replied.  Dean smiled briefly before tilting the prince’s head up so he could wash his neck.

 

“Why exactly did you reject marrying Lady Margaret?  Was she displeasing?  Was it because she was a witch?”

 

“I haven’t any problems with witches, not when they do good.  And I truly had no idea she was a witch when we were first introduced.  It wouldn’t have made a difference either way.  I had no interest in her, no desire to make her my princess.  She was unpleasant and cruel.  It was when I confessed that I had no interest in women that she grew angry with me.  I was expected to marry her, produce the next heir to the throne, but the very idea of sex with a woman, it made me sick to my stomach.  It still does.  I told my father as much.  He told me I would just have to marry her and produce a single heir, and that once I had, I could be with whomever I wished, but I would have to stay married to her.  I told him I refused to marry someone I didn’t love.  My father, he is a gentle and kind man.  My mother is the same way.  I told them how I felt about women and they decided my happiness was more important, that I could find the person I wished to take as my…prince.”  His eyes darted nervously to Dean, and the young farmer realized exactly what the prince was telling him.

 

“It’s alright, Cas.  Many people do not find the opposite sex appealing.  My friend Celeste is one of them,”  Dean assured him.

 

“And you?  You prefer women?”  Castiel asked.

 

“I’ve not had a whole lot of time to explore the possibility of relationships.  I spend my days working the farm, hunting, cooking, and caring for my family.  It doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for courting.  If I had really think about it though, I suppose I have found both women and men attractive,”  Dean replied honestly.  There had been pretty girls over the years that had caught his eye and there had been handsome men that had.  Castiel being the most attractive one of all, if he was being honest with himself.  

 

Dean added more soap to the washrag and swiped it over the prince’s chest.  He was enjoying cleaning the man up, and he was pretty sure the man was enjoying it too.  He grabbed bowl and used that to pour some of the water over Castiel’s hair, wetting it thoroughly.  From there he lathered it with soap, scratching against his scalp to loosen and rid the man’s head of all the filth he knew was hiding in there.  Castiel practically purred with contentment at the feel of Dean’s fingers in his hair.  It took 3 washes before his hair was clean.  It hung damply to his shoulders until Dean grabbed a towel to dry it.  He handed the rag and soap to the prince and allowed him to clean the rest of his body.  When the bath was over Dean helped him out, leading him into the kitchen and making him sit down for the promised haircut and shave.  

 

He took his time, cutting and styling the prince’s hair before moving on to his beard.  First it had to be trimmed, and then he was able to shave the hair off with his own personal razor.  He was acutely aware of the blue eyes locked on his face, watching him closely.

 

“How old are you, Dean?”  Castiel asked as the razor was slid upward on his neck, scraping lightly against the skin as the hair was cut off.

 

“I’m 24.  Be 25 in mid-winter.”  Dean’s attention was on focused on the task at hand but his green eyes did flicker up to meet blue ones briefly.

 

“How old am I?  How many years have passed?”

 

Dean stood back, the job of shaving now complete.  He looked the prince in the eye.

 

“You disappeared when I was 11.  There was a vigil, the entire country mourned when you didn’t return.”

 

Castiel brought a hand up to touch his cheek, marveling over the way his skin felt without hair there.

 

“How many years is that?”

 

“That was 13, almost 14 years ago.  That would make you 28.  No, wait, you were born late summer, yes?”  Dean asked.  The prince nodded.

 

“Aye, that is right.  In the month of September.”

 

“Then this should be the time of your birthday.  You would be 29 this month.”  Dean explained.  Castiel blinked his large blue eyes.  He looked so young, much younger than 29, and incredibly attractive now that he was cleaned up.  

 

“This is my birthday?  It is the 24th?”

 

“Tomorrow.”  Dean got an idea.  “I could make you a pie, to celebrate.  Do you like pie?”

 

Castiel frowned and stared into the fire.  “I don’t remember.  That is a fruit pastry, is it not?  I’ve had nothing but fish, rabbit, berries, leaves, and the occasional squirrel or bird.  I miss the things I used to have at the castle.  I took so many things for granted when I was young.  It is not a mistake I would ever make again.”

 

Dean knelt down in front of the fire and was surprised when Castiel slid down from the chair to sit next to him.

 

“What was your favorite dish when you lived there?”  Dean asked.  Castiel’s expression turned thoughtful, and Dean knew he was thinking about his time at the castle, back when he’d been a carefree boy.

 

“I liked…I don’t remember what it was called.  It was this thick pastry, and it was filled with meat and fruit.  And roasted pig, or pudding.  There were so many things I liked that I’ve not had in years.”

 

“Well, we’re on a budget here, but I think I can manage a mincemeat pie for you, and an apple pie for dessert.  Not like we won’t have plenty of meat now.”  Dean mused.  He rubbed his hands together.  It was getting late, and he had to be up early.  There was much to research for this curse if he was going to figure out how to set Castiel free once and for all.  As if reading his mind, Castiel began speaking again.

 

“Why do you think I turned during the day?”

 

Dean slowly shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I’m thinking this curse, it was placed in two parts.  One to make you suffer as punishment for denying her, but two, because she assumed that being confined to a forest, you’d never find the person you’re meant to be with.”  A thought had been running through his head since Castiel had first told him about the curse.  It was crazy though.  There was no way it could possibly be true.

 

“I will accept that, but why was I able to leave the forest?”

 

“I have a theory.  These lands?  They were all forest, up until 10 years ago.  First my father and now I, we work hard to make enough to survive, but we’ve managed to scrounge up enough to buy an acre or 2 from the kingdom here and there.  My brother and I, we level the land and plant crops.  It has helped us survive.  So technically, you’re still _in_  the forest.  That’s what I’m thinking, at least,”  Dean replied.

 

“I am tired.  My cave is a long walk from here.  I won’t sleep tonight if I head back now.”  Castiel did look exhausted.

 

“Let me get you something to eat and drink, and then you can have my bed.”

 

Dean started to get to his feet until a hand closed over his own, stopping him.

 

“Thank you, Dean, for your kindness and hospitality.  It is very much appreciated.  Allow me to help you.”

 

Dean smiled.  A prince?  Helping  _him_?  If he ever found the time to go into town to the pub he would have one hell of a story to tell!

 

“Alright, come on then.”

 

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

 

They headed to the kitchen, a luxury for most families, but since John had built this house with his own 2 hands to his wife Mary’s specifications, they had not only a kitchen but 3 bedrooms as well.  They were by no means wealthy, they just knew how to work with their hands.  Dean maintained the house now and added things on as needed.  He was proud of their farm.  They weren’t struggling nearly as bad as some families.  

 

He hadn’t gotten to make the pie like he’d wanted to, but there were fresh blueberries and half a roasted duck left, along with potatoes, carrots, and biscuits.  Dean prepared a plate for them both and guided Castiel to their table where they sat down together to eat.

 

“This…is wonderful!”  Castiel practically devoured the meat, groaning around every bite.  Dean couldn’t stop staring.  The prince was handsome, kind, and too good for a world that had so cruelly abandoned him.  He had to do everything he could to break the curse so Castiel could go home to his own family.  He deserved it.

 

“There’s a pond on the other end of the farm, on our land.  Ducks flock there this time of year.  I went hunting this morning and got 2.  It’s a luxury here, but one of my favorites.  I’m happy that you like it.”  Dean said.  Castiel smiled, his lips shiny with grease before reaching for the napkin that had been provided and wiping his face.

 

“I’ve not had duck in ages.  I’d forgotten how much I liked it.”

 

They ate the rest of their food, and then Castiel helped with the dishes.  By the time they were done, Dean was yawning so much his eyes were watering and making it appear as though he’d been crying.  He led Castiel to his bedroom, which was not much bigger than a closet, and stoked the fire that had been waning for the last few hours.  Sam had to have come in and started it for him.  Castiel stood staring at the bed, his blue eyes dancing with so much emotion it was hard for Dean to know what he was thinking.

 

“You can sleep in here.  Bed’s big, I prefer it that way, so there will be plenty of room for you.  I just need to grab a blanket.”  Dean went to the end of the bed to grab his mother’s quilt, but Castiel stepped into his path to prevent him from leaving.

 

“Where will you sleep, Dean?”

 

“I’m fine, Cas.  I’ll sleep in front of the fire in the parlor.”  Dean tried again to leave, but a hand on his arm gave him pause.

 

“Please, stay.  The bed is big enough for us both, and I must leave before dawn anyway.”

 

Dean felt a sharp stab of fear.  Leave?

 

“Why must you leave?  You’re welcome to stay.”

 

Castiel’s fingers stroked his arm where they were still connected.

 

“I am cursed, remember?  While I still have my thoughts, my instincts are mostly that of a bear.  It would kill me if I brought harm to you or your family.  So before dawn I will take my leave.  However, I can return again at sunset.”  Castiel's voice was hopeful, and the thought of this handsome prince wanting to return made Dean's heart beat faster.

 

“Yes!  Come back; I’ll have supper ready, and we can all dine together.”

 

Castiel took a step closer, gently pulling the blanket from his arms.

 

“Come, we’ll sleep now.”

 

Dean followed him to the bed.  Castiel was wearing the nightshirt Sam had provided, and he slipped easily under the covers.  Dean took a moment to strip down to his own shirt.  He was aware of Castiel’s eyes on him, and it made a rosy blush rise up on his cheeks knowing he was the object of the prince’s attention.  He slipped under the covers and laid back against his pillow.  

 

“Do I frighten you, Dean?”  Castiel asked as he turned on his side to face the farmer.

 

“No, you don’t,”  Dean replied honestly.  Castiel studied him for a moment in the flickering light.

 

“You are very handsome, Dean.  I find myself selfishly pleased that you are not already taken.”  

 

Dean turned his head enough to see that Castiel had moved closer.  He gasped as a warm hand came to rest upon his belly.

 

“Y-you are?”

 

“Yes, Dean.  Would it be alright if I kissed you?  I’ve not kissed anyone since before I left the castle, but I’ve never wanted to do so as much as right here, right now.  May I?”  Castiel was so close now that his body was pressed up against Dean’s side.

 

“Yes.”  It came out as a whisper, but Castiel heard it clearly.  Soft, pliant lips met his own in a gentle kiss that made Dean’s head spin.  His arms came up instinctively to wrap around the other man and pull him down against him.  Lips parted, though whose opened first, he had no idea, and then tongues were sliding over one another, teeth clashing on occasion as the kiss grew deeper.  

 

Dean may not have favored women over men or visa versa, but he was no stranger to kissing anyone that pleased him.  There just wasn’t a whole lot of time for it.  He found though, that he had never experienced a kiss like this before.  A soft moan escaped his lips as his fingers tangled in the prince’s newly shortened locks.  The hand on his stomach pulled at his shirt until his legs and his quickly filling cock were exposed.  When those same warm fingers from earlier wrapped around his length he gasped.  

 

“Would you like me to?”  Castiel’s voice had dropped even lower as he pressed tender kisses to Dean’s jaw and neck.

 

“Yes!  Oh God, yes!”  Dean arched up with a gasp as Castiel’s grip grew more firm.  And then he was being stroked, a liquid fire beginning to burn in his belly, threatening to engulf him from the inside out.  His fingers dug into the prince’s shoulders, desperate to cling to something that would keep him grounded.  The fire continued to grow inside him until he was sure he would combust.  Doing this for himself had never felt this good!

 

“Dean, would you…”  Castiel nipped at his jaw, drawing out another moan.  “Touch me?  Please?”

 

Dean didn’t have to be asked twice.  He reached for the nightshirt the prince wore and yanked it up until the man’s hard cock was exposed.  He’d never touched another man like this, though the desire to had been plentiful enough.  There was no man he’d wanted to touch more than this though.  His hand wrapped around the thick cock in front of him and he began to stroke in earnest, keeping pace with Castiel.  They kissed, hard, swallowing one another’s moans so they wouldn’t be heard by the rest of the house.  When the heat became too much, Dean exploded, white, hot semen spurting up and over his stomach.  The pleasure was so great even his toes curled, and he gasped.  His hand stuttered only a moment before he was back to pumping the cock in his hand, using a few motions he liked to do on himself.  It was only a few moments later that Castiel was crying out softly as he came.  It took a moment to catch their breath.  Somehow the covers had ended up at the end of the bed, and Dean was glad.  He didn’t want to have to clean them.  There were rags he kept in the room for various tasks, and he got up to fetch one.  When he returned to the bed Castiel was laying on his back, a lazy, contented smile on his lips.  The sight of him, so content, his body relaxed, the white fluid on his chest and stomach, it filled Dean with a new kind of warmth.  He liked having this man in his bed.  He liked Castiel.  Very much, actually.  

 

He got himself cleaned up and then the prince.  When he crawled back into the bed strong arms slipped around his waist and pulled him closer until his back was to Castiel’s chest.

 

“Sleep well, Dean,” the prince murmured against his ear.  Dean smiled.

 

“You’ll return tomorrow evening?  You promise?”

 

“It’s a promise I would not want to break.  I will go straight to my cave where it is safest for me, and wait out the day.  When the sun sets, I will return.”  Castiel promised.  “I will come back to you, Dean.”

 

And Dean knew he would.

 

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

 

Dean had fallen asleep easily the night before, wrapped up in a warm embrace.  He didn’t think he’d ever slept so well in his life, but in the morning he woke up alone.  The bed felt bigger, emptier without Castiel, and a quick search of the house revealed the nightshirt had been folded neatly and left on the chair from the day before, and the bear skin was gone.  As he began his morning chores he held fast the promise Castiel had made him.  He would return at sundown, and they would be together again.  

 

Sam woke not long after he had and went to check on the processing of the wolves they’d killed the day before while Dean headed out into the fields.  The corn in the far fields needed to be picked still, and the winter wheat sowed.  He got started, and it wasn’t long before Garth was out there helping him.  By midday Sam was out there too.  Frequently Dean found himself looking out towards the forest.  Though he kept his hands busy with his chores, his thoughts were of plump lips, firm bodies and the velvety weight of a thick cock in his hand.  He worried when he saw royal guard heading into the forest.  It wasn’t time for the king’s hunt yet.  Sunset couldn’t come soon enough.  He needed to be certain his handsome prince was alright.

 

Dean readied a bath while dinner was cooking, anticipating Castiel’s needs.  John was curious but didn’t question his son.  Sam was pleased to learn the prince would be returning.  A half hour after the sun had gone down, there came a knock at the door.  Dean hurried to open it, smiling when he saw Castiel there, the bear skin draped over his naked shoulders.

 

“Hello, Dean,” he greeted before leaning in to press a tender kiss to the other man’s lips.  Dean smiled happily and pulled him inside.  It wouldn’t do well for the neighbors to see a naked man standing at his door.

 

“Hello, Cas.  I worried about you today.  The royal guard was in the woods this morning.”  Dean took the skin and laid it on a chair before directing Castiel to the tub of still steaming water.  His face lit up at the sight of it.

 

“You drew me another bath?”

 

“I thought you might need one.  Being a bear, I expect that can be a dirty business.”  Dean helped the man into the water, smiling when he sighed contentedly.

 

“It is, and I mostly washed with cold river water.  This?  It’s pure heaven.”  Castiel leaned back in the water and closed his eyes.  “You said the royal guard was in the woods today?  I expect that was because there were thieves hiding out there.  They came past my den, all loud and cocky.  Not from this kingdom, either.”

 

Dean frowned.  That meant they were from Levanthia.  There had been much unrest between the lands these past few years.  Since King Charles was getting up there in age and had not yet named a successor, King Richard was looking for an opportunity to overthrow him.  He wondered how much of this Castiel knew already.

 

“It was most likely King Richard’s men.  They…have designs on your father’s empire.”

 

“I have heard them talking.  I know this t0 be true.”  Castiel looked around.  “Where are your father and brother?”

 

“Dad, he went into town.  He likes to drink.  Sam went with.  He’ll bring our dad home later.  It would be me going, but I wanted to wait for you.”  Dean was kneeling next to the tub, busying himself with adding soap to a washrag when Castiel brought a hand up to caress his cheek.

 

“Join me then?  Whilst we have a few moments of privacy.  Then we can eat and go to bed.”

 

Dean didn’t hesitate, he stood up and quickly stripped out of his trousers, shirt, and boots.  It had been a few days since he’d last had a bath so he was actually looking forward to this.  He stepped into the water, sighing with how wonderful the still hot water felt.  Castiel parted his legs and tugged until Dean was sitting with his back pressed to the prince’s chest.

 

“Tell me about your life. What have you been doing all these years?”  Dean asked as Castiel found the washrag and began scrubbing his shoulders.

 

“Mmm, the days blurred together.  I have explored every inch of the forest; I have hunted, I’ve made one of the caves my home and furnished it as best I could, and I’ve spent most of my time wondering if I’d ever find a way out of these woods.  I’d like to return home someday.  All I really know is that 0ne day I was a spoiled prince living a sheltered life in a castle, where I was being groomed to take over the kingdom, and the next I being chased into the woods, chased by not only the guardsmen but by Lady Margaret as well.  She told me then that the woods would forever be my home.  I learned very quickly how to hunt for my own food, and how to cook it.  I’d catch it in my bear form and after the sun had set, I would cook it.  I’ve never had a taste for raw meat.  It’s rather disgusting.  A lot of time was spent adding to my cave.  Winters are wicked, and I am loathe to leave once the snow has begun to fall.  I am not looking forward to this coming one, it will be bitter.  I much prefer your bed to my cave, but not only for the warmth it provides.  The company is quite pleasant.”  He rinsed Dean’s shoulder off before pressing a tender kiss to the skin.  

 

“What else do you remember about the curse?”  Dean turned to look at him.

 

“It’s been a very long time.  My memory is a little hazy.  She still comes to me, on the night of the full moon, every month.  Promises to break the curse if I will accept her as my bride.”  Castiel looked away, a mixture of shame and anger on his face that he didn’t want Dean to see.

 

“Cas, all curses can be broken.  Some take a bit more work than others, but it can be done.  You said something about true love?  Does she think she’s supposed to be yours?”  Dean asked.

 

“I don’t know.  Perhaps?  She’s not.  If she were, I would feel something other than contempt and hatred for her, and I do not.  But you…”  Castiel ran his fingers through Dean’s neatly cropped hair, shorter even than his own, and waited for those green eyes to look at him.

 

“Yes?”  Dean’s voice was breathy, his heart racing as he looked back at the prince.

 

“I feel something very special for you, Dean, and not simply because you rescued me.”  Castiel pulled him in for a languid, lazy kiss.  When he pulled back he was smiling warmly.  “Before I met you my life was merely one day bleeding into the next.  I’d have lived a hundred lifetimes and never been as happy as I’ve been since I met you.”

 

Dean’s heart fluttered at those words.  He’d never been in love before.  Could that be what this was?  So soon?  If it was, he was eager to see what would happen next.

 

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

 

For the next 3 nights Castiel returned to find dinner and a bath ready for him.  John, if he was home at all, would retire to his room shortly after the prince’s arrival.  Sam would pick the man’s brain eagerly, and Castiel would do the same in return.  They pored over books, and Dean watched with amusement as they became friends.  The prince’s thirst for knowledge rivaled that of Sam’s, and he very quickly learned all of the important details about his father’s kingdom.  On the 4th night Dean waited at the door as the sun set but when Castiel did not appear, he began to worry.  Night had already fallen, but still the prince did not come.  Something was wrong.

 

“Sammy!  Grab my bow!” he ordered, making the decision that if Castiel was not coming, he would go in search of the prince.  Sam was quick, retrieving the bow and freshly refilled quiver.

 

“You’ll need a torch.  You’re not going into the woods, are you?”  Sam asked worriedly as Dean slung the quiver onto his shoulder.  Dean’s expression was grim.

 

“He promised he would come, and he didn’t.  Something is wrong; I can feel it.”

 

Sam hesitated a moment before dashing from the room.  He returned a moment later with two swords.  

 

“Then I will go with.  It’s not safe out there.”  

 

Dean knew better than to try and stop him.  The time spent arguing was time spent not looking for Castiel, and he couldn’t risk that.  Instead, he nodded.

 

“Alright, let’s grab torches and get going.”

 

They went out to the barn and after they had torches in hand, they headed for the woods.  Dean had no clue where Castiel’s cave was, but he was a good tracker, and there weren’t  _that_  many bears.  He led his brother straight into the woods, picking up easily on the human footprints in the dirt and following them.

 

“He came from this direction.  See here?  Where they change?  This is where he was last night when he shifted.  We need to go that way.”  Dean veered right and Sam followed close behind.  Ears were peeled, listening for the sound of animals, or of possible hunters.  Some came at night, when they thought they had less of a chance of being caught.

 

“Dean, stop, that’s blood.”  Sam was standing over a clear imprint of a bear paw and with his torch lighting it up, the blood was obvious.  Dean squatted and touched it.  Cold and thick.  Hours old.  What had happened to Castiel?

 

“We have to keep moving.”  He stood back up and continued.  There was a rocky outcrop in the distance and Dean knew that had to be Castiel’s cave.  A soft light glowed from within, and he headed directly for it.

 

“Dean!  Wait!  We don’t know what’s in there!”  Sam hissed, but he didn’t try to stop his brother.  He knew there was no stopping Dean.

 

Dean slowed as they reached the mouth of the cave, passing his torch off to Sam and grabbing his sword in turn.  This close up, if there was danger, the bow would do him no good.  There was a small fire burning and what looked like a bed made from furs in the far corner.  Dean set down his bow and quiver, freeing his hands up to wield his sword properly.  If Castiel was in danger like he knew he was, he needed to be able to swing.  Something was lying on the furs, and  _someone_  was crouched down in front of the makeshift bed, dressed in purple.  This immediately put Dean on edge.  Only the royal families wore purple or red.  He crept closer, motioning to his brother to leave the torches by the fire, which Sam did.  As he moved closer he picked up on the voice of a woman.

 

“-never going to love you.   _No one_  will  _ever_  love you, Castiel.  You are mine, and I am yours.  When are you going to see that?  You cannot return home until you do.  Your father?  He mourns you still.  His kingdom is on the verge of collapse and why?  Because of your stubborn pride.  You are  _mine_!”

 

Castiel laid on the furs, and one look at his face told Dean he was not only terrified but in pain, and damn close to giving in to this woman.

 

“That would be where you are wrong.  Castiel is not yours.  He’s mine.”  Dean stood up tall as the woman spun around to face him.

 

“Lies!”  she screamed.  Her hand came up, and he knew she was going to use her magic as self-defense.  This was Lady Margaret.  Dean didn’t need a formal introduction to know that the woman glaring at him was the one that had punished the prince he had fallen so head over heels in love with.  He raised his sword.

 

“I’d not do that,  _Margaret_.  My mother was Mary Winchester.”  

 

The spell died on her lips, and she stared at him, the first hint of her fear beginning to show.

 

“That’s right.  You were no match for her, and you’re no match for me,” he warned.  Her fingers flinched as though she were debating on what to do.  Letting her walk out was not an option.  If she lived, she would do much, much worse - to him, to Castiel, to his  _family_.  He couldn’t risk it.  And she knew it.  

 

“Dean, she’ll kill you.”  Castiel’s voice was thick, filled with pain and fear.  Dean wanted to go to him, to check him and find out how badly he was injured, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the witch.  It chilled him to watch the moment she realized she had leverage over him, and her fear disappeared, replaced by a wicked grin.

 

“Son of Mary Winchester.  I should have known only another witch could counter my spell.  Couldn’t break it though, could you?  Because he’s  _not yours_!”  Her scream echoed loudly against the cave walls, but Dean ignored it.  He refused to show her how scared he was.  Instead, he narrowed his eyes and widened his stance for balance.  If she lunged at him, he was swinging his sword.

 

“He is.  I love him.  Doesn’t matter if he loves me too.  I’d never let you have him,” he said calmly.  Castiel was struggling to sit up, but Dean continued to keep his eyes locked on Margaret.

 

“I love you too!  Dean!  I love you too!”  Castiel cried as he struggled to get up.  

 

“That’s not possible!”  Margaret screeched.  Castiel staggered once he was on his feet and moved around her carefully to reach Dean.  With his free arm Dean pulled him close, but his eyes never left the witch who was screaming now.  

 

“He is  _mine_!”  She lunged but didn’t get more than a step before an arrow pierced her chest.  It stopped her in her tracks and she looked down in shock just as a second one struck.  The aim was near true, hitting only a few millimeters to the left of the first one.  She didn’t get a chance to react; she was dead on the floor.  Dean dropped his sword and pulled Castiel into his arms.  He looked back to see Sam lowering the bow.  His brother nodded, and Dean made a note to thank him later.

 

“Cas, what happened?  Did she hurt you?”  He lowered the man to the floor as Sam hurried over with one of the torches.

 

“No, I-I came across wolves today.  I won, barely.”  Castiel whimpered as Dean checked what he quickly realized was a bite on the prince’s leg.  He pulled his shirt off and tore it into strips, covering the wound.  It was no longer bleeding, which was good.

 

“I’m taking you home.  We need to get this cleaned up properly.”  

 

“Dean…”  Castiel cupped his face and drew him close to kiss him.  Dean let him.  He was happy his prince was safe.

 

“Later, love.  We have to go, now.  There’s no telling if she came alone, or if anyone is looking for her.”  Dean got his arms under the man and lifted him.  “Sammy!  Grab my sword!”

 

The walk back to the farm was much longer, and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when they made it back to the house.  Dean carried Castiel directly to his bedroom and deposited him in the bed.  Sam had gone to fetch water to boil, so Dean worried himself with gathering proper bandages and herbs to bind the wound with.  After he had all the things he would need, he excused Sam and closed the door so they were alone.

 

“Dean, I’m alright.  It’s not the first altercation I’ve had with wolves.”  Castiel brushed the back of his hand gently across Dean’s cheek in an attempt to reassure him.  Dean focused harder on cleaning the wound out.  It already seemed to be healing quickly.  Or at least, like it had started to.  Now it seemed as though the healing were at a normal rate.  

 

“That may be, but the rapid healing has stopped.  You are susceptible to sickness, and I won’t lose you,”  Dean insisted.  Castiel knew how concerned he had been, and that taking care of something like this made Dean feel as though he were doing something good.  In truth, he was, and Castiel was loathe to deny him that.  

 

When he was finished and was certain the wound was clean and would heal, Dean sat down on the edge of the bed.

 

“Cas, I thought I would lose you.  You scared me when you didn’t come home.”  He ran his fingers through the prince’s hair, smiling softly as the man leaned into his touch.  Castiel looked up at him, his eyes large and bright.

 

“Home?”

 

“Well, yeah.  I want you here, with me.  You’re family.”  Dean was being honest.  “I didn’t say that earlier, for her benefit.  I love you, Cas.  How could I not?  You’re wonderful.”

 

Cautious with his leg, Castiel scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist.

 

“I meant it too.  I love you, Dean.  I will always love you.”  

 

Dean felt almost giddy hearing it being said again, this time without worry of a witch attack.  After a few minutes Castiel sat back and smiled at him.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“It’s morning,”  Castiel said.  Dean cocked his head, his eyes shifting to the window that was rapidly brightening as the sun rose in the sky.  Then it dawned on him.

 

“Cas, you’re…”

 

Castiel nodded hard as he wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck.  

 

“It’s over.  The curse is broken!”

 

Dean kissed him hard once before pressing his forehead to the prince’s.

 

“When you are well I think you should go and let your father know you are alive.  It’s your legacy, and you’d do well to show you’re back.  Before King Richard thinks he has a chance of taking over.”

 

“I’ll not return without my betrothed.  So you had best pack for the trip.  We’ll leave in 3 daystime,”  Castiel said.  Dean blinked in surprise.

 

“What?”

 

“My life, my love, I cannot be without you, Dean.  You’re coming with me.  I’ll make sure your family is well cared for until we return, or if they wish, they can come stay at the castle with us.  Whatever would make you happiest,”  Castiel promised.  

 

Dean smiled.  He’d never been so happy before in his life.  

 

“I love you, Cas.  We’ll go to the castle when you are well.”

 

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

 

When Castiel was well enough to travel they made the trip to the castle, where the king and queen were ecstatic to have their son back.  They were not entirely surprised to learn about Dean, and they welcomed the man that had saved their son and freed their kingdom from the witch’s control.  John and Sam were welcomed to the castle and a grand wedding, the first in 30 years, brought all of the kingdom together to celebrate.  News of the prince’s return reached every kingdom for thousands of miles, though the one most displeased was King Richard’s.  The throne was passed in an elaborate ceremony the following spring to Castiel, and Dean ruled by his husband’s side in a long, happy, and very loving reign.  Some could even say, they lived happily, ever after…

**Author's Note:**

> We'll just ignore the fact that they can't procreate together here. I mean, I could have gone the ABO route here, but I chose not to. So we'll pretend they did some kind of surrogacy later on down the line for heirs. I hope you enjoyed the story!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos and comments are always welcome. I'm trying to get the next one up as soon as possible!
> 
> **Day 14 Prompt:** Geeking Out Over Something


End file.
